


Greetings from Hell

by Fallingtowardsoblivion



Category: Merlin (BBC), Merlin (TV)
Genre: Aka a joint, Businessman Arthur, Comedy, Demon Merlin, Demonic Possession, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exorcisms, Fluff, For Benjo, Good things come of this, Hilarity Ensues, Humor, Jealousy, M/M, Merlin sucks as being evil, Merthur - Freeform, Modern Era AU, Morgana curses Arthur, Possession, Priest Gwaine, Recreational Drug Use, Satanism, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 01:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5520869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallingtowardsoblivion/pseuds/Fallingtowardsoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is just a businessman trying to go about his life in a moderately tolerable manner until one day a certain man with golden eyes pops into his life. From then on, every moment seems to hold something unexpected, and Arthur's life seems to be going straight to... hell.</p>
<p>Or the story where Merlin is the worst excuse of a demon that Lucy can offer, Gwaine is only an exorcist because he went to online school (on a drunken bet, might we add), and Arthur's getting pretty sick of Morgana's satanist phase.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning: or how Arthur totaled his car

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deanprays_onthursdays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanprays_onthursdays/gifts).



> This is for Benjo because really the holidays can be tough. Thanks for sparking this lil gem by going back to Texas. Which is pretty much hell. Good luck with that. I stopped at a gas station near the top bit once and let me tell you, #nodifference.

 

 

It started out as a rather normal day, all things considered.

Arthur woke up at 5 am sharp, stumbling around as he prepared his morning coffee and toast. His day consisted of meetings and rushing and other generally displeasing things, such as lunch with his father. After all, it was his duty as Pendragon Inc’s up and coming CEO (for his father was soon to retire) to be busy, and only befitting that he was therefore laden with the more distasteful aspects of work-stuff.

It was only as Arthur was driving home, zoning out as he got on the freeway to his flat, night having long ago fallen, that the businessman noticed something was amiss.

Or, more specifically, _someone_.

“Oi, can you turn the heat up? I’m freezing back here.”

For future reference, Arthur did not, in fact, nearly total his car. Nor did he, in fact, give a scream in pitch and range of a soprano opera singer. Rather, (according to _Arthur_ , and _not_ Merlin, who very much was there and did in fact know the _truth_ of the matter) the businessman slammed on his breaks and turned around to find none other than a lanky twink of a man perched on the patent leather of his backseat. He wasn’t even wearing a bloody seatbelt. What the hell?

“And who the hell are _you_?” Arthur said, starting incredulously at the man who was, oddly enough, wearing sunglasses in the middle of the bloody night, and even more oddly _in the back of Arthur’s bloody car._

“Hmm? Oh, I’m Emrys.” The young man said, giving Arthur a derpy, lopsided grin. And looking for all the world as though he actually _believed_ he belonged in the back of Arthur’s car.

“Emrys?” Arthur repeated dumbly.

“Mmm,” The young man made a noise of affirmation. “That’s what people call me, anyway. It’s not my real name. Though don’t tell Morgana that. She’d be so pissed.”

“Morgana.” Arthur repeated dumbly. Of course his sister had something to do with the strange bloke in the back of his car. Of _course_. If it isn't a pagan altar in the old mansion’s basement, then it’s leaving books of ‘black magic’ and other hooky-dooky shit in Arthur’s bathroom, because evidently she reads that shit while she _shits_. It would only be befitting that she be the cause of the random wanker in the businessman’s backseat.

 Soon enough, Arthur gets his composure. He would deal with his sister later. Right now, though, he had some random bugger in his car that he rather didn’t _want_ in said car.

Arthur sighed. Then he promptly got angry. “And why the hell did Morgana think it was a good idea to leave you in the back of my bloody car? Are you one of her damned Satanist friends? Because I already told her, and you can tell her again, that I’m not letting any of her bloody Satanist friends into my flat ever again, not since that damned séance with the live goat!”

The man, Emrys, smirked. “Don’t worry, Arthur. I’m not one of Morgana’s ‘Satanist friends’.”

Arthur huffed. “Well, then why are you in my car?”

“Well, you see, Morgana fucked up,” Emrys said, leaning back and settling himself into the cushioned seat. “And she did the wrong ritual at the wrong time with the wrong people, and well, let’s just say either _she_ was going to be stuck with me, or she could send me off to possess someone else, and well… I guess your sister isn't too fond of _you_.”

“What the hell are you even _saying_?” Arthur said, really wondering if the man before him was mentally sound. “This isn't even funny.”

Emrys hummed, reaching up to his face. “No, Arthur, I don’t suppose it is. But to be perfectly fair,” the man continued, taking the glasses off, “I don’t believe it’s supposed to be so.”

And then Arthur was staring straight into a pair of golden eyes.

And that, in fact, was the exact moment that Arthur realized he was in something that an acquaintance of his, El Elyan, would probably call _deep shit._

 

***

As it was, being possessed wasn’t too bad, Arthur supposed. Though of course, he would never tell Emrys that (bloody bastard had a big enough ego as it was).

The thing about possession is that Emrys wasn’t actually _inside_ of Arthur, controlling him, but rather… _there_. In the background. Popping up at the most inconvenient times and standing around through some magical this or that while only being visible to Arthur.

Obnoxious, to say the least.

Even more so because Emrys wasn’t even that _good_ of a possessor.

“Eat the orange crayon.”

“And why in the bloody hell would I do _that_?”

“Mmm, well it’s something to do and your coworker Susie’s daughter’s 7th birthday isn't that exciting.”

“So you want me to eat… a crayon…” Arthur drawled out, incredulously even as he crossed his arms.

“Well it would make things more interesting, wouldn’t it?”

“God, Emrys, you really are the _worst_ demon I’ve ever met!”

“I’m the only demon you’ve ever met,” Emrys countered, sticking his finger straight into the center of the birthday cake while leaning against the table.

“Ugh, that’s disgusting. People are supposed to eat that, you know.” Arthur said, watching as Emrys lazily licked the icing off his finger.

“Mmm, but it tastes _so good_.” The demon said, batting his eyes and winking.

“Ugh. Aren't you supposed to… I don’t know, tell me to commit murder or arson or something?”

“So you don’t particularly like the orange crayon idea?” Emrys had said, pouting in a manner that was… weirdly attractive, even with the golden eyes.

“No, I don’t like the bloody crayon idea!” Arthur burst out, throwing his hands in the air.

It just so happened that Leon walked into the kitchen at that exact moment, and the young Pendragon had promptly had to explain why he was having a row with thin air and the finger gouges in the cake.

It wasn’t that unexpected that Arthur had had to leave that particular social gathering early.

 

***

About three months into his evident possession, Arthur had the brilliant idea to ask a question.

“So how long are you going to possess me?”

Emrys, who had been in the middle of ruining Arthur’s wallpaper for the fifth time this week by scratching phrases like ‘there is no hope’, ‘get out’, ‘your time is now’ and ‘your socks don’t match you stupid color blind git’ into it with rather claw-like nails paused for a moment – looking at the mortal with a small frown.

“No one told you?”

Arthur contemplated throwing something at the creature before him. Though of course, Emrys had a rather nasty tendency of throwing things _back_ , and Arthur still hadn’t been able to get the scorch mark out of the headboard in his room (let alone the _sheets_ )…

Instead, the businessman took the safe route, and merely gave the stupid demon a deadened look.

 “No, I suppose I must’ve glazed over that part in the owner’s manual.” He said sarcastically.

Emrys narrowed his eyes, his finger inadvertently ‘slipping’ to make a deeper gash into the wall.

Peachy.

“Is that sass you’re giving me, Arthur Pendragon?” He said, jutting his chin out.

Arthur faked a contemplative look, “I don’t know, are you ever going to give me a bloody answer to my question? Or should I go down the street to that Catholic church and get an exorcist to tell me?”

Emrys’ eyes narrowed even further. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I _would_.” Arthur countered, returning the demon’s (literally) burning gaze.

And, well, nothing good could ever come from such a situation.

***


	2. Blaze it, Biblical style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I don't already have a seat in hell, then I sure do now.

 

 

As it was, the exorcist Arthur managed to get a hold of covertly (because he’d rather not have to explain to anyone why he needed an _exorcist_ ) was a bloke from craigslist.

Well, actually Arthur found him on tinder, but the details of _that_ really didn’t need to be expanded on, because, well – Let’s just say Emrys is an expert at _cock-blocking_.

Literally.

Dear god. Arthur was _frustrated_.

Anyway, the exorcist showed up at Arthur’s flat at 6 o’clock sharp (regardless of their correspondence stating the meeting time to be at 4 sharp the _previous_ day) and promptly passed out on Arthur’s plush, light red loveseat. (“Light _red_ , Emrys! Red! Not bloody _pink_!” Emrys had only laughed, replying “Whatever you say, princess.”)

Needless to _say_ , Emrys had quite the time picking on Arthur for the fact that he was currently trying to be exorcised via an evidently _drunken_ homeless man, armed with a slip of paper from the Online Church of Catholic Christ, Wisconsin Sector, a stolen-looking bible clearly stamped with ‘St Jude’s Missionary, Tunisia Division’ and three sticks of dried sage.

Arthur had kicked the priest awake.

“’M awake! I’m awake!” He’d mumbled in a very _not_ -awake manner. The priest then promptly turned onto his side (while flipping his hair in a rather gorgeous manner), got more comfortable on Arthur’s light red loveseat, mumbled something about apples, then fell back asleep.

Arthur decided to give it an hour.

 

***

 

An hour later, Arthur Pendragon found himself in possession of a slightly hung-over, moderately to severely drunken, yet nevertheless handsome, priest. 

“’M’kay mate… What appears to be the problem?” He said, swaying  a bit while laying down (a feat that Arthur had previously not considered possible).

“Er, I need an exorcism.” The businessman said, frowning. Were all priests this forgetful?

“No he doesn’t.” Came another voice, and Gwaine looked, surprised even through his drunken haze, at where Emrys had evidently appeared perched on the end of the loveseat.

“Well now… Is this a domestic?” The priest said, looking for all the world as though his brain was chugging along a bit too fast for his thoughts. Which was probably true, if Arthur thought about it.

Stupid git.

“Because I don’t think a priest is the proper protocol for a domestic, mate – er, mates..?” Gwaine said, looking between the pair in a way that man Arthur feel oddly violated. “Wait a minute, are you that bloke from tinder?” Dawning realization and the resignation of a man that has gone through this exact situation three times previous spread across Gwaine’s face. “Oh mate, I didn’t know he was taken.” He said, trying to sit up even as Emrys rolled his eyes.

“Yes, well he is. So it’s best you be off and, oh I don’t know, check yourself into church or something. Go to AA.” Emrys said, and it was only then that Arthur noticed how his eyes were a dark blue instead of their usual golden, and god dammit wait a minute, the bloody demon was leading Gwaine to the door - !

“Whoa, whoa, oh _noooo_ you don’t, Emrys. Gwaine, if you’d _please_ just come back here – _yes_ , you Gwaine, the hallway is bloody empty except for you, don’t act like you're confused! Yes, _get in here_ ,” Arthur ground out, dragging a reluctant priest back into his flat by the sleeve. “Gwaine, Emrys – Emrys, Gwaine.” He said, a very pleasant, very _evil_ look on his face.

“Now I believe we have a bit of a _misunderstanding_ going on, right now. Because you see, we are _not_ in fact having a _domestic_.” Arthur said, making the priest once again don a painful look of _thinking_ , and shooting a look promising pure _pain_ towards Emrys. “ _Emrys_ , here, is a _demon_. And _you_ are a priest. And I called _you_ to get rid of this bloody _demon_ before he ruins my _life_.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Arthur.” Emrys said, pulling out a cigarette from god knows where (after all the demon was blessed with a horrid sense of fashion involving lots of leather, black, general tightness and a question on where the hell he put his dick). He lit it was an _obnoxious_ little flame from the tip of his finger.

Arthur whirled around, pointing a dangerous finger at Emrys, smiling while he did it. “You! Do not speak until the nice man has _finished_.”

Emrys just snorted, rolling his eyes. “Alright, _sire_.”

“Good. Now Gwaine,” Arthur said, whirling back around just in time to grab a rather reluctant priest by the sleeve and once again drag him back into the room. “Exorcise. _Now_.”

“Um, if it’s all the same to you, mate…” Gwaine started, but then seeing as he would probably _die_ in the near future if he did not go along with Arthur Pendragon’s immediate wishes, stopped talking. Instead, he swallowed, ripping his sleeve from the other man’s iron grip, and said: “Alright, okay. Exorcise. Okay.”

Arthur nodded grimly, crossing his arms.

 

***

 

As it was, craigslist exorcists were, for the most part, _dismal_ at their jobs.

Or at least, that’s what Arthur was quickly learning, busy holding his sleeve over his mouth and nose in order to not _die_ from _asphyxiation_  due to all the sage Gwaine was burning.

Emrys, the bugger, merely crossed his legs and got more comfortable on the light-red loveseat, smirking at Arthur with the damnedest golden eyes.

“Is it working yet?” Gwaine said, pointing the saggy sage stick at Emrys in a rather defeated manner.

“Mmm…” Emrys said, whipping out another cigarette and lighting it on the burning tip of the sage stick. He then lifted the butt to his mouth, taking a satisfying drag. “No, not really.” He said, thoughtfully.

Arthur nearly choked in the background. Emrys was _smoking_ on his light-red _loveseat_.

He’d paid good money for that!

Both Gwaine and Emrys ignored the businessman having a conniption in the background, though.

“Well, damn. This is my last stick, too.” The priest said, feeling more sober.

“Hm. Shouldn’t you try reading a couple verses from the bible or something?” Merlin said, huffing out another lungful of acridic smoke.

“Oh yea, I guess I should.” Gwaine said, frowning and hefting the book in his hand while giving it an appraising look. “Oi, but do you happen to have any more smokes on you? It’s been a bit of a stressful evening.”

“Oh, of _course_ I do, Father,” Emrys said, grinning in a rather wicked manner, pulling out something that was very much _not_ a cigarette. “ _This_ will calm you right down.”

Arthur’s reaction, to say the least, was moderately spectacular.

Emrys, being the _demon_ that he was, would cite it for years to come.

 

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so that happened. I hope everyone is having a lovely holiday season, and if you're struggling with being home for the holidays, then by all means, I am now your adoptive parents. I am both parents. You need not worry. Mom is here. Contact me on tumblr at withinthesingularity for further information.
> 
> (also, if you have any requests or prompts, feel free to ask me!)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP throughout the holiday season! Enjoy!


End file.
